


Until the Light

by dirty_diana



Category: Lost in Space (TV 2018)
Genre: Adventure, Alien Planet, Future Fic, Gen, Robinsons stick together, Sister-Sister Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 16:00:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16977639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirty_diana/pseuds/dirty_diana
Summary: The Robinsons finally made it to Alpha Centauri. Not everyone's adjusting.





	Until the Light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cherylbombshells](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherylbombshells/gifts).



> thanks to llaras for the beta.

"Penny? Hang on, okay? I'm on my way."

"Not going anywhere. Don't worry." Across the call, Penny let out a weary sigh. "Thanks for not waking up Dad. I couldn't take another lecture."

"Oh, you're still going to get a lecture. What were you doing outside the settlement in the middle of the night by yourself? It's not safe."

There was a second of silence before Penny replied, long enough that Judy glanced down at the display of the Chariot she was driving to check the connection. The shadow of Penny's face was still there, barely distinguishable from the unlit night around her. Her voice held a thin note of petulance. "Nothing's been safe," she said, "since we left Earth. I'm going to disconnect for now, okay? My battery's running low."

"Penny. Don't hang up on me." Judy's hands tightened around the steering wheel as the call screen blinked out.

Far behind the Chariot, the lights that circled the Centauri settlement faded in her rear view display and disappeared. Judy held back a shiver. Since joining the settlement on Terra Centauri, Judy's life had been the strictly ordered days and nights of work at the hospital. She'd never been out this far alone.

*

Terra Centauri had two moons. Satellites Isis and Ma'at were each on solitary trajectories through space around the planet, never waxing in the sky at the same time. Isis was nearly full tonight, identifiable by the pink-hued tint to her glow. Her sister moon was a thin curve of white light that hung much lower in the sky. Judy kept driving, racing across the plains in the dark.

"Adjust your heading ten degrees to the west."

Judy followed the navigational instructions coming from the Chariot's computer, read aloud in a clear, artificial voice. She knew that she was near her destination when she could hear the sound of the ocean.

*

She slowed the Chariot to a stop at the foot of a family of rolling, ancient rock formations, an outcrop that extended over the edge of the bluffs and swept down to the sea. She got out of the Chariot, leaving the headlights blazing into the darkness. She spun on her feet, looking around in every direction. There was no sign of her sister.

"Penny!" she called. "Penny!"

"I'm here. Don't fall over." The reply came back after a moment, sounding surprisingly close. "And don't freak out."

Judy tipped her flashlight downwards. The light settled on Penny's face almost directly below her, sitting on a wide grassy ledge that was a ten metre drop from where Judy stood. Penny sheltered her face from the glare with one hand. She gave a weak wave with the other.

"Oh, my god." Judy gave a tug on both her flashlight and first aid kit, making sure they were securely strapped to her belt, then descended the rocks as briskly as she could. She landed beside Penny with both feet, and knelt down beside her sister. "Where does it hurt?"

Penny hesitated. "I think I hurt my ankle."

"Show me," Judy said. Penny extended her right leg forward, sitting dociley as Judy pushed up her pant leg and examined the flesh.

"I think it's just sprained. But I couldn't climb back up on it."

"Why were you climbing in the dark to begin with?" Judy asked.

"I got thrown off the bike," Penny said, shrugging as if that explained everything. "I think I hit a rock."

She watched as Judy pressed careful thumbs into the tender skin around her ankle. She pulled sterile wipes out of her first aid kit, smoothing away the blood where the skin had been broken.

"Ow." Penny winced. She nodded at the wipes in Judy's hand. "How did you know to bring those? I didn't even say I was injured." 

Judy rolled her eyes in amusement. "I have been your sister for eighteen years, remember?"

"You make that sound like a bad thing," Penny answered, scrunching her face into a frown.

"Well, it hasn't been boring."

"Your face is boring," Penny said. Both sisters giggled. It was an sound incongruous with the wind against the rocks and over the sea, whistling as it cut sharply through the night.

"I think you're right," Judy said when the laughter had subsided. "It's probably a sprain. I'd like to do a scan back at the hospital, but I put an analgesic wrap on it for now. It should help you make it back to town."

Penny glanced upwards, then over her shoulder. Behind her, the ground below the ledge they were crouching on was another twenty metres down. She took a deep breath. "I can do it," she said.

*

It was slow going to get back to the top of the bluff. Judy went first, leaning back to reach a hand to her sister and help her manage the next foothold. Penny was uncharacteristically silent, no jokes or straight-faced teasing. Her face tensed with pain. Judy went first, leaning back with every new foothold to give her sister a hand.

*

They found the all-terrain motorcycle in the grass not far from where Judy had parked the Chariot. It was lying on its side, the front headlight smashed and dark. Judy let the beam of her flashlight linger on the broken glass, tamping down on a belated wave of cold panic. It could have been worse.

"Whose bike is this?" she asked finally, when she'd settled on the most neutral question she could think of. "It's not standard issue."

"It's Amanda's," Penny admitted, after a pause.

Judy had only met Amanda a few times. She was a tall, unsmiling teen whose family had been on one of the first trips to Alpha Centauri.  After her first encounter with their parents she hadn't come around the Robinsons much, and Penny herself had started to be at home less and less.  "Right. Well, I don't know what your girlfriend did to make you steal her bike--"

"I only borrowed it."

"--but I'm sure she deserved it," Judy finished, as if Penny hadn't interrupted. "But tomorrow you have to call her and let her know what happened and where to find it. Deal?"

Penny didn't answer. Judy opened her mouth to repeat herself, but Penny's eyes had gone wide and panicked.

"Penny? Is it your ankle?"

She reached out, and Penny found her hand and gripped it back, squeezing tightly. "Don't move," Penny whispered.

"What--" Judy began. Then she heard the growling. A frisson of fear ran over her in shivers. Involuntarily, Judy glanced over her shoulder. 

"I told you not to move!" Penny hissed.

The orsus had lumbered into the radius of the Chariot's lights and was lingering there, stamping the ground with heavy hooves. The first survey scientists on Terra Centauri had determined that the animal was completely deaf, with no auditory organs, and almost no vision. Instead the orsus compensated a sharp sense of smell. It stood tall and wide, slightly higher than the Chariot, its heavy hooves covered in pale markings that resembled a spider's web. The orsus scented the air, making a snuffling sound and turning its head until it seemed to be staring straight at them. It had two weak eyes, slits that seemed to glow an unearthly shade of purple.

There'd been a stampede just outside Settlement Six, just up the river. Two people had died. 

Judy's mind raced, grasping for a plan to get them both to safety. "I'll draw its attention," she said. "You get the Chariot. Then I'll run and catch up with you, okay?"

"Are you nuts? You can't outrun an orsus." Penny's voice was shaky, squeaking and rising on the last words.

"I know you definitely can't outrun it. Not with that injury." Judy was still holding Penny's hand. Penny's fingers were trembling. She pulled away, pushing her fingers into her pockets and fumbling for something.

"I've got a better idea," she said. "Get ready."

"Get ready for what, exactly?" Judy demanded.

The orsus made a hissing noise.

"Now!" Penny yelled. Suddenly the air smelled like candy canes. Judy ducked reflexively as Penny's hand flew towards her, holding the small object that was spraying the pungent substance in her direction. Penny aimed the spray towards the snarling orsus. It hissed again, shrinking backwards as if it had been shot.

"Run!" Penny yelled. She hobbled forward as fast as she could. Judy kept pace nervously with her, pushing her sister into the Chariot before she climbed into the driver's seat. When she looked into the rearview monitors the orsus was where they had left it, pounding its hooves into the dirt in blind agitation.

Judy let out a joyful, relieved scream. The sound echoed on the wind like a primal howl, and Penny joined in.  Both sisters dissolved into giggles as the Chariot sped along the bluffs towards the settlement.

"Wow. How did you know to do that?" Judy asked her.

"Orsuses don't like the smell of peppermint. It's overwhelming. Kind of leaves them unable to tell what's going on." Penny wrinkled her nose, bending her head to sniff her arm. "Ugh. I smell like Christmas."

"Right," Judy said, "but how did you know? It wasn't in any of the training manuals. I would have noticed."

"I was on the Botany service. We were outside the settlement a lot, so every one of us got the, like, how to not get trampled speech." Penny glanced away from Judy's perplexed, inquisitive gaze.

"I thought you were working Oceans."

"I am now. But after the Safety service, I did Biology for a few weeks." Penny shrugged. "It didn't work out."

"But why--" Judy began, then thought better of it. She fell silent.

Penny bent her knee, pulling her left foot up to the seat so she could examine her ankle. "This is going to be so swollen in the morning."

*

It was the darkest part of Alpha Centauri's nine hour night. Isis continued her slowly dipping arc across the purple-dark sky. The Chariot headed across the open plain back towards the settlement. With the orsus far behind them and the night warm and clear, Judy found herself easing the Chariot's speed.

Penny was quiet.

Judy took one hand from the steering wheel, tapping her fingers playfully against Penny's temple. "Uh oh. What's going on in there?" 

Penny swatted Judy's hand away, making a strained face. "Do you ever wish we'd just stayed on Earth?" she asked after a second.

"No, I don't."

"Liar," Penny said, spitting out the word under her breath.

Judy glanced at her in surprise. "Penny!"

"Sorry." Penny didn't sound particularly apologetic. "I just don't believe you."

"Well, believe it. Why? Is that what you want, to go back?"

Penny shrugged. Her eyes were turned to the sky outside the Chariot, idly tracking the planet's constellations. Earth was invisible beyond the sky's canvas, orbiting nearly twenty-five trillion miles away. "It doesn't matter, does it? It's not like we can go home."

"Pen," Judy said quietly. The expression of sympathy only drew a icy glare from her sister.

"It's fine for you, I guess. You get to do what you wanted to do anyway, and you're good at it. Mom's got her engineering. Will's got endless alien rocks to bring home, and Dad…" Penny let her sentence trail off. "I don't actually know what Dad does besides make people nervous."

Judy's laughter was a little too loud for the small vehicle, tinged with relief. If Penny was making jokes, then it couldn't be that bad. "He's pretty good at that." She elbowed Penny gently in the side. "And you've got your stuff too. What about your art?"

"I didn't make it onto the Art service," Penny pointed out.

"You can still make art, though? There's no law against it."

"Yet," Penny muttered darkly.

"Oh, come on. There's a really cool mosaic behind the medical housing. It's this woman holding a jar of flames, like she's going to burn the whole building--"

"It's a representation of Pandora," Penny interrupted her. 

Judy did a double take at the quietly confident note that she'd heard in her sister's voice. "Penelope Iris Robinson. Was that yours?"

"You can't tell on me. You just said you liked it," Penny reminded her.

"I did. But--"

"Stop! Stop!"

Blindly Judy hit the brakes. The Chariot came to a jerky halt, bouncing both women slightly forward in their seats, straining against their seatbelts. They'd descended to the foot of the bluffs, on the edge of the beach.

"Are you okay?" Judy asked, blinking as she oriented herself and began to reach around for her first aid kit. "Pen?"

There was no reply. Penny had opened up the Chariot's passenger door, and was gingerly easing herself to the ground, putting most of her weight on her good foot.

Judy sighed, opening her door and jumping out to follow. 

*

Here the sea was always calm. Tonight it rose and receded in low, lazy swells. It looked like something out of a hanging painting, a moonlit sea with a trail of golden light tracking to the horizon in the distance. 

When the Alpha Centauri program had been announced, reports had described the chosen planet as perfect. After nearly a year in the robot galaxy, stepping onto the soil of a paradise planet had been a dizzying rush of relief.

They'd made it.

*

"Penny, come on. We need to get back before morning."

Judy shook her sister's shoulder. Penny had stopped, and she was staring at a flat, roughly oblong stone that lay in a patch of similar rocks. There was a faint, eerie blue light that seemed to be coming from the ground underneath it.

"What is this?"

"It's what I came out here to look for." Penny spoke in an awed hush. "I didn't think I'd actually find it."

"You came out here for a rock. Don't tell me you're turning into Will."

Penny shook her head. "Phosphorescence."

Judy squinted warily at the glowing rocks, maintaining her distance. "Is it biological?"

"Nah. It's just a type of dirt. Look." Penny knelt and pulled the rock up, exposing the underside. It was crisscrossed with streaks of the shimmery blue. 

Judy aimed her light at the stone. After a moment, the patches of blue began to glow brighter.

Penny grinned. "Pretty cool, right? It's harder to get art supplies out here, especially if you're not on the Art service. But some of us have started looking for different pigments in the wild." Penny pulled a metal container from her pack, and began to scrape the substance into the small jar.

"I'll help."

Penny looked up, her eyes opening in round surprise for just a second before settling back into a neutral expression.

"It'll be faster," Judy added.

"Yeah, sure. Thanks." Penny retrieved a second container from her pack, and extended it to her. Judy pulled her utility knife from her pocket, and knelt down beside her sister.

Judy turned over another nearby stone, and dragged her knife across the surface. The substance was unexpectedly warm where her fingers made contact. An animal with wide extended wings cut through the moonlight over the sea, squawking as it dived for unseen prey. An insect scuttled across Judy's line of sight and burrowed into the sand.

The repetitive work was soothing. Judy fell into a state of near meditation as she harvested the clay from the rocks.

"My supervisor? At the hospital? I don't think he's ever worked with a black person before. He makes this face every time I know the answer to something. It's like he's surprised I even know words." The confession came out of her in a rush of breath. Judy closed her mouth, biting down on her lip, feeling surprised at herself.

Penny glanced up, listening silently. She'd picked up a handful of stones to look for more phosphorescent clay, and left a trail of glow-in-the-dark fingerprints. 

Judy took a deep breath before she continued. "He freaked out when he saw your mural. It was pretty funny. But the nurses thought it was too cool to paint over." Judy paused to think. Her mind was suddenly racing over twenty-one years of memories, over the house that they'd abandoned and the web of streets she'd never see again. "He's an idiot. But it's not like I can just go work somewhere else, is it? And I miss Alice's."

"That place had the best waffles," Penny agreed with a sigh.

"And I miss our backyard. Remember when Will fell out of the oak tree?" 

Penny chuckled at the memory. "He still falls off stuff a lot. He's still growing and it's like he has no idea where his arms and legs are."

"I miss him," Judy said, laughing with her. "And his dumb robot."

Penny shrugged. "We're all still here. You should come over more."

"Yeah. I guess I should."

*

Judy's jar was full. She screwed the lid on, and handed it back to her sister. They'd traveled so far, across the galaxy and back again.

They were still together.

"Let's go home," she said.

Penny nodded. "Yeah. Okay."


End file.
